The frigid wind whips across my shivering body, I don’t feel the cold. It’s the ice in my chest that chills me.
The vortex of oblivious shoppers circles menacingly, hindering my frantic search. Morbid certainty forms in my mind, instant and cruel; the agonising loss, my empty meaningless life. His hand was just here, enclosed in mine. Was that his coat I glimpsed? His laughter I heard?
‘I dropped my glove mummy!’ He says, tugging my trouser leg and holding it aloft proudly. I scoop him up and plant a kiss on his nose as the omnipresent fear ebbs away.